


your laugh echoes down the hallway, carves into my hollow chest

by fullmetallizard



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Child Death, F/M, Loss, this is sad why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetallizard/pseuds/fullmetallizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Roy, at his core, was still an alchemist and couldn’t help but think that he was losing the life most precious to him because of all the ones he took in Ishval.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	your laugh echoes down the hallway, carves into my hollow chest

**Author's Note:**

> I obviously and unfortunately do not own FMA.

The one thing Roy couldn’t stop thinking when his daughter first coughed flecks of blood onto Riza’s shoulder was that he’d never felt a fear that intense. Not in Ishval, where sand coated his throat and the smell of death was everywhere. Not when he found out that the government he served for was full of corruption and cruelty and monsters. Not even when he was staring wide-eyed and helpless at the Truth.

He had never known this choking, brain numbing fear before and there was no escaping it.

The doctor said Penelope’s lungs had never been all that strong in the first place. She had been born seven weeks too early and in the three years after, they never really caught up with her. Roy insisted that his daughter still ran and played and laughed loudly and screamed like a banshee. But that didn’t matter. Her weak lungs were falling apart every time she coughed that rattling cough.

“Riza,” he said, kneeling beside the rocking chair. “Get some sleep. I can hold her for a while.”

She shook her head and wiped the blood off Penelope’s lower lip with her thumb. She rubbed it on the thigh of her sweat pants. “She finally fell asleep. I don’t want to move her around.”

Sleep was the only time the coughs didn’t rip through their small daughter. Roy studied her in the weak light of the lamp. Penelope was always fair, what with being a fourth Xingese, but she looked chalk-white. Her cheeks weren’t pink and chubby like they were supposed to be. His heart twisted at seeing dark circles under his three year old’s closed eyes.

They matched his and Riza’s, he was sure. He placed a hand on Penelope’s back and sighed. She’d had a rough time that day; she was tired and kept gagging on the blood she hacked up. She hadn’t wanted to eat and it was a fight to get her to drink some juice.

“You can’t sleep in the chair again. Give her to me,” he said, holding his arms out. It had been three nights since Riza had slept in their bed. Instead she was cradling Penelope in the rocking chair in her room. She never complained but he could tell by the way she rubbed her neck that it was hell on her.

Riza hesitated. She furrowed her brow but she eventually held the toddler out to him. He took her carefully. She stayed asleep, warm and boneless in his arms. Riza got up, kissed Penelope’s head and his cheek, and left the room, her dull eyes and tangled hair showing how exhausted she truly was.

Roy sat in the rocking chair and adjusted his daughter on his chest. She gripped his shirt tight in her fists like she had since she was born, and it made him smile a bit. He dozed for a few hours but woke to a tiny, half-hearted cough. He sat up straight and looked into her face.

“You okay, buddy?” He asked quietly, pushing her black, baby-fine hair out of her face.

She shook her head. “I want Momma,” she whimpered, eyes filling. Roy tried not to sigh. She always clung to her mother when she felt sick but he knew how badly Riza needed some rest, even though she’d never admit it. Despite Riza’s worries in the beginning, motherhood came surprisingly easy to her. Her dedication to her child was as unwavering as her dedication to him and their goal.

“Do you want to sleep in the big bed with Momma and Daddy?”

She pursed her pale lips as she thought about it. Even though her face was Roy’s in miniature, her brown eyes and facial expressions were so like Riza’s. “Yes. Okay.”

He stood, keeping a firm hold on her. Her skinny arms went around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

Riza was asleep but stirred at Roy putting Penelope down on the bed. She was always a light sleeper. “What’s going on?” She mumbled out.

“She wanted you,” he answered, laying down on his side and rubbing his forehead. There was an ache there that he just couldn’t get rid of.

Riza rolled over and put her hand on Penelope’s belly. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“My froat hurts, Momma.” She put a hand on her neck to emphasize her point.

“I know. But Daddy gave you medicine after dinner, remember? You can’t have any more just yet.”

The medicine was a thick syrup that tasted terrible but helped relieve some of her pain. The doctor told them it might make her live a little bit longer than without it.

“My chest hurts too,” Penelope all but whimpered.

“I know. I’m sorry. Sleeping will help,” Riza soothed. Not exactly true but at least she couldn’t hurt while she was asleep.

Penelope started crying in earnest. She was overtired from coughing herself out of sleep for weeks. Roy rubbed her back in circles until she finally curled against Riza and her breaths evened out.

“Hopefully, she’ll last the whole night.” He winced at his phrasing. “Without waking up, I mean.”

“I know what you meant, Roy,” Riza said, kissing their sleeping daughter’s forehead.

It had been a month since the doctor told them Penelope’s time was limited. She’d made it further than anyone expected and at first Roy thought that was a good thing, that she could overcome the illness entirely. But as his child grew paler and thinner he knew that was not the case.

“How much longer do you think?” He asked, nearly inaudible. It was the question he’d thought several times but never voiced.

Riza’s eyes were closed, pain written clear across her face. “A couple days, maybe. She’s barely strong enough to stand anymore. She’s in so much pain…”

It wasn’t right for a three year old to hurt like their child was hurting. They both knew how unfair it was but they didn’t say it. Roy, at his core, was still an alchemist and couldn’t help but think that he was losing the life most precious to him because of all the ones he took in Ishval. Riza wasn’t an alchemist but carried the guilt with her and he knew she was thinking along the same lines.

He woke the next morning to Riza fumbling out of the bed. He sat up and watched her rush into the bathroom, Penelope in her arms, coughing loudly. Roy followed them in and just made it through the door to watch Penelope vomit blood into the toilet.

“Momma,” she sobbed, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists. “Make it stop.” She threw up again, bright red blood running down her chin. Riza turned away, eyes clamped shut.

“I wish I could. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

She was losing control and Roy could tell. Once Penelope seemed to be finished, he grabbed her from her mom and started helping her wash the blood from her mouth. Riza left the room without saying anything to them.

He focused instead on wiping Penelope’s chin and chapped lips clean with a warm washrag and helping her change into fresh pajamas. She leaned against him, barely able to keep herself upright. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Why Momma is crying?” She looked down at her little feet as she asked. He figured she was scared. She’d never seen Riza cry before. Roy picked her up, balancing her on his hip and carried her out to the kitchen, trying to think of an answer.

“She gets sad when you feel sick because she loves you.”

“I’ll feel better so Momma can be happy, okay?” She smiled a bit, pleased with her solution to the problem.

Roy’s throat was nearly swollen shut. He cleared it. “That’s a good plan, Nel. But for now, let’s just focus on breakfast, okay?”

Her mouth quirked and she shook her head. “Not hungry. Juice, Daddy?”

“You can have juice but you have to eat too. At least a little bit.” He sat her down at the table and poured her a sippy cup of apple juice. She’d been doing well with regular cups but her hands shook too much now. He cut up a banana and watched as she ate half of it. He sat across from her, nursing a cup of coffee.

She was nodding off as she chewed so Roy figured it’d be better to let her sleep a while longer than to try to keep her awake. He gathered her up and took her to her bedroom, tucking her worn green blanket around her. Hayate padded in to keep guard by her feet.

He studied her a few minutes, his heart thudding hard in his chest. He’d only known her three years but it felt like a lifetime. He’d never completely understood Hughes or Fullmetal before, but he knew that obsessive love firsthand now. And it was carved into his chest like a scar.

He stood and went to look for Riza. She was in the laundry room, folding towels and sobbing. “Riza,” he said, softly, taking a washcloth from her hands and pulling her into an embrace. “Talk to me.” They’d been together in one way or another since they were teenagers but this obstacle was unlike one they’d ever known before. They were lost.

“My daughter is _dying_ and I can’t do anything but watch.” He squeezed her tighter against him. “Is this because I didn’t want her when I found out I was pregnant?” She asked quietly.

“Hey,” he said seriously, pulling away to look at her. “That has nothing to do with anything. She wasn’t Nel yet. It looked like an impossible situation. This is happening because her lungs aren’t strong.”

“And they’re not strong because my body couldn’t keep her inside long enough. This is my fault.” He could hear the honesty lacing her shaking voice and it made him ache for her.

“You can’t blame yourself for things outside of your control.”

“I didn’t want her, Roy.”

“But we kept her. And you want her now.”

Riza’s face crumpled and her sobs grew loud, making his chest feel hollow and sore. If something made Riza Hawkeye cry, it was something serious. She’d been so strong through everything and it made his knees weak to see her finally breaking. “I don’t want to lose her. She’s…everything.”

“I know.” Riza took a deep breath and he dabbed her cheeks dry with the washrag he took from her. “Why don’t we sit and you can have a cup of tea?” Riza nodded and walked out. Roy busied himself with the kettle, being sure to take it off before the steam got loud enough to wake Penelope.

“I planned her funeral yesterday,” Riza whispered once he handed her the mug. It was one Penelope painted lopsided pink hearts on during a day out with her great-grandfather.

“You what?” He asked incredulously, feeling tears gather painfully behind his eyes. He blinked them away.

Riza nodded, tracing the hearts with her finger. She kept her eyes cast down.

“I would have helped if you asked.”

“I know. I thought it would be a relief to have it out of the way. But it makes it worse.”

“We’ll make it through this,” he said, hoping it wasn’t a lie. “And maybe she’ll-”

“She won’t get better, Roy. Don’t do that. Not with me.” He sighed. He held her hand in his scarred one while she drank her tea in silence.

“I really liked…” she said after a while, her voice cracking a little. “I really liked being her mom.”

He thought back to the day Riza went to the doctor and how her hands shook when she told him she was pregnant. They weren’t supposed to be sleeping together, much less starting a family. But deciding to give it a go anyway had been a decision that shaped his life into something brand new and better than he could have hoped for.

“I think this is what my dad died of,” she said, quietly, her eyes glued to the bottom of the mug. “There was a lot of blood in the end with him too. The cough sounds the same.”

Roy couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed his mind as well. He remembered Master Hawkeye’s body falling to the ground and his harshly gasped last words. He looked at Riza, wondering if he truly had taken care of her.  

“So I passed this on to her,” Riza said. “No matter how we look at this, it’s my fault. _You’re_ the scientist. You know how genetics work.”

“Riza,” he breathed, feeling his heart break. “There is no _fault_. Sometimes children get sick. I’m the scientist so I understand that passing genes is involuntary and something we couldn’t control even if we want to.”

She wiped under her eyes and sighed. “Blame makes it make more sense.”

“Daddy?” He heard. He turned and saw Penelope still clutching her green blanket. She was swaying a little.

“Hey, honey. Did you have a good nap?” He motioned for her to sit in the chair he abandoned while he got her medicine prepared.

“Yeah.” She paused. And then, “Momma?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I’ll stop being sick so you can be happy again.”

“Well, that’s very sweet of you,” she said. “But listen, Nel. If it hurts too much and you’re too tired...it’s okay if you want to rest.”

Roy turned, shocked. His daughter’s face had grown sad and somehow she must have understood was Riza was saying. “You’ll be lonely.”

“No,” Riza said, forcing a smile. She took her daughter’s small hand in both of hers. “I have Daddy. He won’t let me get lonely.”

Penelope put a hand to her mouth and coughed, just like she’d been taught to do. It sounded wet and painful. Her breaths afterwards were just wheezing. “Here, let’s see if the medicine helps,” Roy said, either unwilling or unable to feel the acceptance Riza had apparently found.

Penelope grimaced but swallowed the syrup with no complaints. She was so like Riza that it made Roy’s breath catch. He’d said they could survive losing her but once he was actually looking at the little human he’d helped create, he wasn’t so sure.

Throughout the night he realized something was different. Penelope was all but glued to them and there seemed to be a sense of finality about everything. She leaned heavily on them, as even sitting was too much effort. She wasn’t interested in playing and kept dozing on and off.

Later that night the three of them were on the couch, Penelope curled up on Riza’s lap with her face buried in her neck. Riza hummed and rubbed Penelope’s back, as if trying to try to calm the shallow, gasping breaths she took. “That’s pretty, Momma,” the toddler choked out.

Roy pressed his thumbs to his eyes, forcing the tears away once more. “Daddy?” he heard his daughter ask. He looked over at her. Her head was still on Riza’s shoulder and she was chewing on her lip, brown eyes wide.

“What is it, buddy?” He asked, opening his arms to her. She crawled into them and took several labored breaths before continuing.

“Can I sleep in the big bed again?”

“Of course you can.” He studied her face intently. He wanted to etch it into his memory. He never wanted to forget that when her eyes were closed, her eyelashes were so long they rested on her cheeks. Her black hair was loose and soft and thin. He ran his fingers through it.

He could feel her pulse under his hands. She was warm with a fever. Her breaths were loud and short but at least her body was still fighting. He closed his eyes and held her tight, wishing. He’d happily live out his days blind if it meant keeping her. Hell, he’d die in her place so Riza could have her.

But he knew that wasn’t how it worked. He’d seen the Truth. There are things that human beings could never control and this was one of them. Roy felt small and terrified.

“Do you want any dinner?” Riza asked a little while later.

Roy shook his head and felt Penelope doing the same. “I’m not hungry, Momma.”

“Are you sleepy? Do you want to go to bed, Nel?” Riza asked, tucking some of Penelope’s dark hair behind her ear.

The girl tried to take a deep breath but it made her cough. “Yes.”

Riza took her and disappeared into the bedroom. She came back out a few minutes later and kneeled in front of Roy, taking his face in her hands. She looked him square in the eye. “Don’t panic. But I think this is it.”

“What?” He didn’t recognize his own voice.

“Roy, I don’t think she’ll still be here tomorrow. She can’t catch her breath.”

He felt like he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him. “No,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” Her thumbs stroked his cheeks where the tears he spent all day trying to fight now rolled freely down his face.

“Why?” He asked, even though he knew. He ran his fingers through Riza’s hair, trying to calm down.

“Let’s go to bed. She needs us.” Her voice was strong even though he wasn’t.

He changed and lay on his side of the bed. “I love you,” he told his almost sleeping child.

“I love you too, Nel. Everything’s okay,” Riza said, pulling her in close.

“Love you,” she sighed to both of them.

Roy listened to her choppy breaths for a while and then somehow he fell asleep.

He woke to sunlight streaming in through the blinds and he knew from the tingling in his chest that something wasn’t right. He looked over at Riza. She was sitting up, cradling Penelope like she was a baby. She looked over and her eyes were hollow.

“She stopped breathing two hours ago.”

His stomach lurched and he sat up, reaching for her. Riza made no move to loosen her grip. “Let go, Riza,” he said as softly as he could. She didn’t. She lowered her head, her forehead resting against Penelope’s. “Riza, give her to me,” he begged.

Riza closed her eyes for a few seconds then nodded. Roy took Penelope and watched as Riza completely folded in on herself. She looked down at the spray of blood on her shirt. “Oh, God,” she said, sounding absolutely panicked. “My baby. Oh, God.”

The shock on her face reminded him in a painful way of when they put Penelope in her arms for the first time. She kept staring down at her then looking around the room as if she wasn’t quite sure it was all real.

Roy gathered his daughter in his arms and wept, the fear he’d been dealing with coming to a screeching halt, leaving behind a sharp loss. His mind registered Riza leaning on his arm, her head heavy on his shoulder.

Penelope’s face was peaceful, far too peaceful to be asleep. He was struck by how small she was. Her chubby starfish hands were limp and pale and he held her fingers in his, mentally pleading with her to squeeze them.

It was a few hours before they could get out of the bed. Riza called Grumman because neither one of them could stomach the idea of taking her to the funeral home. Grumman cried openly, told them to make sure they called if they needed him, and left.

Riza sat on the couch, methodically stroking Penelope’s worn out green blanket. “What do I do?” Roy asked, sitting on the other end of the couch. “How do I help you?”

“The house is so empty already,” she murmured. She stopped with the blanket and reached out for Roy. He gratefully went into her arms, her warmth making him feel just the slightest bit more whole. “We’ll have to be okay. I promised her we wouldn’t get lonely.”

The funeral was two days later and it was small. They made sure it was private even though the nation wept over the loss of the Fuhrer’s great granddaughter.

Rebecca Catalina, now Rebecca Havoc, sobbed, leaning into her stone-faced husband. She was clutching their sleeping baby to her chest. Furey cried quietly. Breda and Falman each had a hand on his shoulders.

All of the Elrics came from Resembool. It was hard to look at all of Fullmetal’s kids, healthy and strong. Harder still was seeing Alphonse’s one year old with her dark hair and Xingese features. Roy averted his gaze but Al seemed to understand.

They functioned. They ate, they slept, they occasionally broke down. Roy went back to work and two weeks later, Riza went back to her job at the library. He wondered often if she missed the routine and structure of the military. It helped him, at least.

Months passed and the ache never went away but it stopped being so sharp and present all the time. They’d been doing well when he found Riza crying in Penelope’s room. She was sitting cross legged on the floor with a few boxes around her. Hayate lay behind her, whining occasionally.

“What are you doing?”

“I was going to pack up her things.” She pressed her palms over her eyes and took some deep breaths.

“Why?”

“I wanted to give some stuff to Rebecca for Lucy.”

“Why don’t we keep some?”

“We have her blanket and her stuffed rabbit. We don’t need anything else,” she sniffled.

The thought of packing up Penelope’s room made Roy feel sick to his stomach. Riza was right, Lucy Havoc would get more use of her things than they would. He knew Riza didn’t like going near the little bedroom but Roy found comfort there and spent many evenings in the rocking chair.

“This is hell, Roy,” Riza suddenly burst out. She was holding a small striped shirt in her clenched fist. “This is absolute _hell_. I would have died in her place. Why her? An innocent child?”

He sat in front of her and pulled her onto his lap. “That’s not how it works. There wasn’t some grand scheme. She just…she died, Riza. That’s all there is to it.” He locked his arms around the small of her back.

“One of my grandfather’s friends sent a letter that said Penelope was in a better place.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

“They mean well. Hell, maybe it’s true.”

“No,” Riza said fiercely. He pulled back and looked at her. The skin around her eyes was pink and puffy but her eyes were fiery hot. “I’m her _mother_. The best place she could be is with me. With us.”

He rubbed her back and said nothing. He realized the ache had stayed sharp as a knife in her chest, even six months later. He felt selfish for not seeing her suffering.

“There’s nothing I can do to make it hurt less,” she whispered, looking down at her calloused hands. He’d noticed that since Penelope died, she couldn’t meet his eyes very often. He wondered if that was because when she looked at him, she saw their daughter so clearly in his face.

He traced the scar running along her neck. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“I don’t…I don’t think I can live with this, Roy.” The words were heavy in his ears, the meaning clear.

Panic rang in his chest like a bell. “I’d be alone. I can’t lose her and you. I can’t take it.” She met his eyes and he could see the agony in hers. “Give it time, Riza.”

She nodded, trusting him as she always did.

After a few more months, Riza’s nightmares calmed some. She was able to walk by Penelope’s room without wincing. She spent more time with Rebecca and Lucy.

They found out she was pregnant on the anniversary of Penelope’s death. Roy cried but she insisted it would be okay. They both liked being parents and they knew the new baby couldn’t ease the pain of losing their daughter.

But it could fill their lives with other good things. They’d lived through plenty of pain and Roy was sure they could find a life in the chaos. They’d done it before and they could do it again.

Riza had protected and carried him through so much and was sure he could return the favor. He would lead her into a life she would want to follow him into.  


End file.
